The Re-Orientation of JB Barnes
by Thisonesforthefreaks
Summary: Avengers don't imply Arrive. Avengers enter with style, they drop in (literally), they explode though walls with flares and firearms, they appear, sometimes they intrude. And whatever they do it is always completely and entirely them. The arrival of James Barnes therefore could never have been anything less than what it is. Messy, unpredictable and just a little bit complicated.
1. Prologue

**_Arrive. _**

[1] To reach a destination in one's journey.

[2] To come to be present in time.

Synonyms inc. _Enter, Appear, Approach_

To say that any of the avengers arrive, at anything, ever, would be incorrect.

Avengers do not simply /Arrive/. - Tony Stark probably said that once. Tony Stark probably said that a million times trying to cohere any of the others into whatever he's planned this time. ("Jesus Tony the thing's in your basement for heaven's sake. We do not need fireworks going off from your elevator!")

It's true though, and he knows it. Tony Stark is ostentatious. Flashy. Conspicuous. Genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. Subtle just isn't his style. It isn't his nature. With Tony you get the full deal. The whole shebang. Before, when he was just a weapons developer lacking an inch or two of purpose, it was dancing girls and flashing lights, with screaming crowds, media and as much alcohol as you need. Now it's a there's less girls and more red paint, rocket boots and saving the world. But it can never be said that Iron man 'arrives'. He kind of erupts onto a situation with a blare of AC/DC and a 'hell yeah I'm Ironman, that one the one that stopped his mate's wayward brother levelling New York with a bunch of Aliens. Yeah. That one.' attitude. Everyone knows then Tony Stark's in town.

Tony's not the only one who's entrance isn't exactly what you'd call quite though. Thor's pretty spectacular too. He'll plummet in with a low grumble of thunder shuddering around mountains, the bitten off growl of a large animal, and hot white flashes of lightning. Someone, probably Clint this time, calls him out on it occasionally but he swears it isn't deliberate. Just something that comes with the whole Norse God-of-all-things-Stormy package. Anyway, Thor comes and goes between Asgard a lot less these days, and Tony can't say he's too sorry about the reduction of electric charge related problems that that caused. (That one time Jarvis got fucked and ended up as an uber-realistic hologram was, well, an experience to say the least…).

It's fair to say the rest a bit, well a lot, more low key. Prime examples being Natasha and Clint who both possess the the ability to be in your house for, like, a month before you even realise they're there. And even then that's probably because they want you to know who's about to kill you. (The amount of heart palpitations Falcon swear's they've caused him since he started hanging around with the avengers isn't even worth counting). Even Bruce can remain comfortably unnoticed in the background for ridiculous lengths of time - that is when he's not turning green and smashing things….

And Steve Rodgers? Well, Steve's Steve. Captain America. Mr Muscles. He's always just there. When you need him, getting the job done with minimal killing - well… mostly- and a bucket full of patriotic duty. You'd imagine that, maybe, what with him being such an icon and his super serum body it'd be obvious when Captain America turned up, but in fact Steve's arrival is the most understated of them all. The closed to being just an arrival. He's not got the sculpted death stealth of Clint or Natasha, or the egotistical eruptions of Tony Stark, he's just a kid from Brooklyn who doesn't like bullies.

And James Barnes? Well, he's also a little complicated...

_So that was the prologue of what will be a multi-chaptered story focusing on events after CATWS and Bucky's introduction into life as The Avengers know it. And, of course, there will be flashbacks...  
>Thanks for reading! I've already got the next chapter written (it's pretty long I think) so I'll get that up once I've got someway into the next. This is kind of my project for the next while so I'll try and keep updates as regular as possible.<em> _*You can come and find me on __tumblr__ btw :)*_


	2. Some Legends Are Told

It's a thursday morning when Black Widow gets the call. Thor and Hawkeye and Sam are about to deal a new round of Irish Snap (Although teaching it to Thor may be a decision Clint is beginning to regret). The man who may be J.B Barnes will arrive at a safe house just east of Lawrence, Indiana in 15:30 hours approx.

Clint and Sam are up and throwing stuff in the trunk of a very expensive car - the kind Steve finds ridiculous and Bucky would think was fantastic - before Natasha's even got an air map up to track the flight. They've been on standby for days now - so much so it wasn't even worth Natasha and Sam going back out.

They drive four and a half hours straight when Natasha announces that, due to her flexible outlook on speed limits, they're already 54 minutes ahead of schedule - which makes their ETA almost unacceptably early. The natural conclusion therefore is to stop for food. - Cue practiced squabbling over take out choices followed by potentially the most intimidating order the Chinese guy just off the I-70 near Somerset has ever experienced.

At 5 hours 13 minutes Hawkeye sits up and begins throwing things out of the bag at his feet. Falcon and Black Widow continue eating and driving respectively.

"Fuck". 5 hours 15 minutes.

"Huh?" Falcon questions around the last of the spring rolls.

"Batteries."

"What about them?"

"I didn't bring any."

"Don't you use those fancy ass things Tony made? They don't need batteries…" _Everyone _had been made aware of Tony's latest donation of kindness towards the human race - a tiny, permanent, non battery operated earpiece that still works entirely as a hearing aid.

"He's not finished fixing them after last week so I'm back to the old S.H.I.E.L.D set."

Natasha pulls over at the next gas station and they pile out again.

When they get back in Sam switches into the driver's seat, Natasha notes the drop in ETA (although they're now over an hour ahead of the plane) and Clint goes to sleep in the back.

Falcon presses the radio on. They listen to a guy talking about an allergic reaction to cauliflower, a girl who's dog ate her hamster and the greatest hits of March 1974. Natasha holds her hand out for Sam's iPod.

10 Minutes after this Clint's been woken up by a heated discussion over Broadway's greatest hits.

"Hell I'm not saying Phantom's not a little bit rape-y but Christine isn't exactly turning him down!"

"He made a doll of her. A fucking _doll _Sam"

"When have you seen Phantom of the Opera Tash?" Clint adds over her shoulder.

"London, four years ago. Child Trafficker. Hey sleepy."

"Dead?" He asks more for the conversation than the need for clarification. "I'm not sleeping when you're making that noise"

"Very. Take the aids out then Dedushka"

"What and miss all the action? No thanks. Hey, I think you'll find we're on our way to meet the '_Dedushka'_"

"If you two are done flirting, Tony's calling. I'm not sure I want to know what that means by the way." Sam holds out his phone, one eye on the road.

"Damn. Wait I'll put you on speaker"

"What's happening?" Sam asks

"Hey flyboy, listen Chicago want to search Stevie's plane when they get down, they _say_ it's routine but anyway change of plan you're going there to meet them, just the tin man flips or something. Fury's got some people on standby moved close enough but he wants you there. I'd come but apparently I'm 'more valuable where I can't aggravate anything'." Sam can almost see the quotation marks around the last words. It was consensus that, while Tony may be a perfectly reasonable guy after you've stuck around long enough to realise it, he wasn't the most emotionally sensitive person to have around your average emotionally unstable, unpredictable, potentially, potentially-not, ex assassin. "Oh, and there's traffic up your way in 10"

"ETA Tash?" Clint asks from the back.

"You've got 07:40 hours if you keep going that speed. Plane arrives in 06:20. Get a move on slowcoaches" Tony answers for her and the phone clicks off.

"Shiit" Breaths Clint

"Yeah."

"Swap Sam?" Natasha offers. Sam nods and they begin to climb over each other so Natasha is back in the driving seat, her foot's already pushing down further at the accelerator, swinging them off onto a backroad. Natasha Romanoff doesn't do traffic.

Steve's not had an anxiety attack since August 1939. Not since Bucky'd walked in the dance hall, fifteen minutes late, dame on arm, cheep scotch in the other hand and announced he'd enlisted. It'd taken all of three minutes for the reality of what Bucky'd done to completely wash over Steve. He remembers the lightheaded feeling of skin and bone knees giving out from under him. After that he remembers Bucky crouching in front of him, hands hovering just above Steve's arms. The dame's gone, or maybe she's just stepped back a bit. It doesn't really matter, Steve's already getting up and insisting he's fine; "leave it Buck, I'm good."

Bucky'd enlisted, he was going to war. It wasn't that Steve wasn't proud - hell Steve's dead set on enlisting himself, what with Europe looking to go all pear shaped any time soon, an' all. It wasn't even because Bucky wasn't going to be around here anymore, Steve'd be joining him in no time. It was just that, well, it was _Bucky_.

Even during the war, before the serum, heck, even the night Bucky shipped out Steve had been focused on doing the right thing, winning the war, saving other people that there hadn't been time to panic. He sometimes wonders whether it was wrong of him not to fall apart that night Bucky left. He sometimes wonders why he didn't.

The attack on new york maybe brought him close - this wasn't something the serum couldn't fix - but Steve thinks he was still numb enough from waking up in the future that it didn't touch him the way it should of.

Steve's not had an anxiety attack since 1939 but he's fairly sure he's having one now.

Steve's also fairly sure the man next to him already heard the situation when the S.H.I.E.L.D standard body guard/co-pilot/flight attendant/what ever you want to call him/"my name's Aron sir" told him. Still he repeats it.

"Bucky? Listen, the guys at Chicago, at the airport, they want to check the plane ok? It's just a routine thing, because we're a private aircraft and we're flying into the night… Your not gonna… you're ok with that right, Buck? They'll have to look at our documents of course. I mean… Fury's sending… They'll have documents by then, to show who you are of course. Not that they'll be looking for anything. It's just routine, they do it all the time I think. You're good with that aren't you Bucky?" Steve's aware that he's rambling an' that Bucky's heard it all before from a more coherent voice but he just needs to make sure. Needs Bucky to understand. Needs to be able to breath. It's just routine. They do it all the time. Nothing's 'up'. It's just routine.

"Sure."

"They'll probably do it as we get off the plane. Just check the documents, that we are who we say we are. Someone'll search the plane but once we're off as well. It's like, do you remember when, it was — it was '38, '39 something like that; you tried to get us into that ba— " And breath Rogers. In and out. Then in again. "It going to be fine Buck. I swear it."

"Sure."

The man who's passport apparently states him as J. B. Barnes continues sitting forward on the aisle seat, watching the flight attendant out of the corner of his eye with a bored caution. Steve is still breathing carefully next to him. He's trying not to remember how much concern used to hurt.

Natasha spots the first of the ex-S.H.I.E.L.D vehicles 20 minutes out from the airport. It's pulled up just slightly inside a cluster of trees near the edge of the road and she slows just enough to see someone pull out a phone - presumably to report their location. Falcon must have spotted it too because he chuckles quietly.

"Here we go."

"Here we go."

"19 minutes to landing Sir." Aron breaks the silence in the plane and Steve fastens a seatbelt around his waist before reaching under his knees for the shield.

The Winter Soldier takes a breath in through his mouth and makes no attempt to unclench the fist that's just formed in his human hand.

Clint's still arguing to Sam that he should make a little cardboard sign to hold up once they get to the airport when they actually arrive at the airport.

"no because putting 'mutant grandpas' was gonna be so much less offensive, c'mon please - it'll be worth the bruises — "

It's some weird time in the morning (or possibly night still) where time doesn't count anymore and the sun'll be coming up at some point and all that does matter is that they are 71/2 minutes ahead of the plane's ETA and Hawkeye's kill count is now at 5 approaching 6.

"For a protocol check there sure is a lot of cars trying to hide" Natasha, every inch the Black Widow, drops the agent between her arms and swivels, knocking out the one behind her who thought she hadn't noticed him.

"Lotta guys with guns too" adds Falcon, keeping a gun trained on the one remaining agent as Hawkeye drops back down from the roof and Natasha pins him to the ground. The agent's already bitten whatever he was given to chew and his eyes roll back into his head.

"Rear area clear. Exit Secure." Natasha states and six men arrive from around the corner. Four are defiantly ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. A fifth scowls at the agent on the floor and looks like he wants to spit or something. The sixth does spit.

"Fucking HYDRA. We'll take it from here Agents" the one who spat orders.

"Keep to the shadows. No, right to the shadows. You're here to protect, not as an offensive remember." Natasha says over her shoulder as the three walk toward the runway. She doesn't mention that the dead man almost certainly wasn't HYDRA. The less people know the better usually.

"Checked, Romanoff" someone says.

"Wait, that was _Romanoff_?" another hisses almost silently.

_"__I can't do anything unless you tell me you're ok with this Buck. I won't do that to you after…well, after them…"_

_Silence. The Winter Soldier sits on the crappy motel bed and continues saying nothing. According to official records HYDRA don't existent anymore. That doesn't mean there's not people after the asset and Steve knows that they're going to have to move today or tomorrow. They've been in one place too long now. Yesterday the guys running the place enquired about a poorly muffled screaming coming from room 24 in the middle of the night. Steve'd frozen for a solid minute before muttering something about Afghanistan and left it at that. Four days ago Falcon and Black Widow had left for New York. Three days ago Steve Rogers and James Barnes had arrived just outside of Wuppertal, Deutschland and checked into Der Haltestelle Motel. _

_"__Nat and Sam are staying in New York for now. I won't go back if you don't want me to, although we'll need to move again soon…" Steve tries not to think of snow storms on mountain tops so thick he could only just make out the silhouette of Bucky._

_"__We - there's a — I'd have to let the Avenger's know of course, if I was staying here, they'd have to — I think they're expecting for me to come back but I don't have to if you — they'd cope just fine without me, I'd do it Buck, you know that don't you? I'd stay if you wanted me too? Or you could — you could come back with me. To New York. We could figure it out from there, Natasha knows some guys that could help with the…with… And Tony'd look at your arm… if you wanted, make sure it's safe an' all? Or you could, y-know, stay here, and I go back if? Or come back but you wouldn't have to be around if you didn't want to… we'd find a way to make it work? You don't have to do anything you don't want to though Buck, we'll make it work. But you gotta be okay with it, I won't do anything otherwise." He tries not to think of how it would've been suicide to even take three strides forward to him for fear of falling off unseen ridges. _

_"__Sure Stevie, lets go." Steve's chest does a funny twitchy thing at the childhood name surfacing which is more than a little painful. Maybe, if he'd been facing the other way, he could have missed the look in Bucky's eyes that's taken up residence recently. As it stands Steve isn't too sure that the name isn't just like other Brooklyn nuances that have begun littering the man's language as he re-learns they exist, like he's trying them out for size._

_6 hours later Steve Rodgers and J.B. Barnes board a private flight to Chicago, Illinois. The Winter Soldier hasn't said another word apart from answering Steve's direct questions._

Natasha, Sam and Clint (who's found his way onto another rooftop) stand by as two large shouldered men step forward and take James' papers. They're handed over by another, official looking, ex-S.H.I.E.L.D woman with a not so inconspicuous Glock 19 resting against her thigh.

No-ones quite knows what it says on the documents; How exactly they explain why the States should let in an ex-soviet assassin who's name is responsible for several of the headline hitting events in the last decade alone, not to mention that the man he supposedly is has been dead for over 70 years. Whatever it says though seems to do the job because the two men hand the paper back and step away from the door.

They don't recognise the first person to step out. He's wearing a military insignia on his shoulder though and as he turns to one of the men Falcon recognises the S.H.I.E.L.D symbol on the gun at his waste. What he doesn't recognise is the unusual firework shape tattooed on the agent's wrist when he holds out his details. He lets it slide though because Steve is handing his own passport and documents over to the other man and watching him is The Winter Soldier.

_So that was chapter one (or two if you count the prologue...). Next chapter follows on but you'll get a bit more backstory and things have a the hint of a threatening turn..._  
><em>I'm not going to set a specific schedule for update (anyone who knows me knows I won't stick to it) but I'm a good way into the next chapter and should have it up next weekend or thereabouts. As before, this is Unbeta-ed so if you spot anything don't hesitate to let me know!<em> 


	3. We Are The Poisoned Youth

**I**t's not surprising, really, that Sam's hand slips down to his gun, finger on the safety catch. Not when the Winter Soldier, the living breathing winter fricking soldier, is standing not ten feet away - his own hand inside a pocket gripping something Sam strongly suspects might sting a little if used.

The Soldier's head's bowed enough that the checkpoint guys have to ask him to look up, but, from this angle, Falcon can see his eyes flicking around - quickly finding all their 'hidden' back up. When, for a second, steel blue eyes lock onto Sam he braces further into his stance - resisting the flight or fight urge that thrills through his nerves. Even with the metal arm, currently broken, hidden under an aged denim jacket Falcon doesn't doubt the damage that the Soldier would cause if he felt it necessary. He totally gets the whole backup squad that's standing in the shadows "just incase something happens" (Read: "If we've misread this whole thing and 'Bucky''s gonna try and kill us then I'd at least like someone in the vicinity to clear away my corpse").

Clint on the other hand had rolled his eyes when he'd heard they were sending an enforcement team to escort an man off a plane.

(_"Really? 23:1, including the better half of us lot? C'mon man, you wouldn't exactly call those betting odds, would you?"_

_"Better half my ass"  
>"Oh, I'd forgotten Bruce and Thor aren't coming with us."<em>

_"Clint we've got no idea how he'll respond - he could still be conditioned for all we know."_

_"Yeah yeah, I know. I'm just saying,- you seem to have forgotten what our day job is."_)

Even though he's not in Sam's line of sight Hawkeye's gaze is almost palpable, arrow pointed straight at the Soldier's sternum. The Soldier can tell too, if the full body shudder he just gave is any sign. He looks pretty tense but doesn't appear to be resisting Steve's guiding arm as they begin to walk toward the cars. Actually, it's Steve who keeps looking like he's going to learn in and say something, or punch someone, but pulls his gaze forward again before he can.

Sam wonder's what's going on in the Soldier's mind. Whether he's aware that the security is there for that exactly, security. Not, say, to attack him, for instance. He wonder's whether the Soldier's thinking at all. He wouldn't be that surprised, he's seen plenty of veterans do something similar, disassociating from everything - functioning basically on autopilot. The Solider hasn't lashed out yet - so Sam presumes that he's aware enough to know they aren't there to harm him. Or that he simply doesn't care anymore.

* * *

><p>To be entirely honest Hawkeye's not entirely sure how exactly they got to this point, with the Soldier actually about to (hopefully) drive three hours with them to a nearby safe house where they'll stay until (if) he's cleared back into civilisation, rather than, say, lost in eastern Europe doing hell knows what. Being honest, there was a fairly large part of him that didn't even think they'd get this far. He'd trust Natasha's judgement with his life, but the comic books hadn't been wrong when they painted Steve as the idealist he is.<p>

It's maybe because he doesn't quite believe that they've got this far without a hitch that Clint saw the the black smudge on Aron's wrist almost as soon as he stepped off the plane and handed his papers over. Of course, then, he didn't know that the S.H.I.E.L.D fight attendant was called Aron. He knows that now - it's practically the only thing he knows though. The kid's good, Clint has to admit. He's just repeating his S.H.I.E.L.D number system and name over and over, no matter how hard Clint presses palm into his jugular or knee into his lower stomach. The man's got to be in fair amount of pain now, and he'll almost certainly know the chance of survival from this point in is negligible. He's bleeding out from the impact wound, an slightly barbed arrow had gone diagonally into the middle of his back. The the tip of which is still embedded in torn tissue.

"Who sent you?" Hawkeye finds the tip and twists slightly

"I t-old you… I'm S.H.I.E.L.D Ag'nt 423—6J—R—"

"S.H.I.E.L.D doesn't exist anymore. Who sent you?"

"Fu-Fury, Director Fury I'm assisting Fury —S.H.I.E.L.D Agent 43—"

Hawkeye hounds the man further against the wall,

"I'll repeat. Who sent you?" Aron continues to stare at him, eyes enlarged with a lack of oxygen, repeating the same continuous code. "What house d'you work for?"

"House? I-I'm-I work for S.H.I.E.L.D"

"S.H.I.E.L.D doesn't exist. Who do you work for?" When he get's no answer Hawkeye asks again, accentuating every word with an amount of pressure on the arrow. Aron's about to loose consciousness again and Clint needs answers before then. The blood on Hawkeye's hand is wet and warm.

"I-I-There's not a- I don't know. Please, I don't know-"

"That's ok. Tell me who you're working for and it'll stop hurting." He really is still a kid. Hawkeye wonders how long he's been working with them.

"I-there's a - please please I can't I don't-" He's terrified, whimpering a little, slight tears tracking their way through long lashes.

"The asset yes?"

"He-the trial- I, he - they're going - to take - I don't know 'm sorry I don't please -"

"Ok. I need the name of your house, then you can go."

"I-I don't work for - not a house - I- a man. H-He didn't I don't have a name - he - they called him Don - The Don - please I don't know his name —"

"Aww crap."

Hawkeye releases the boy completely, as he finally looses consciousness for the last time. He grabs the kid's documents and leaves - joining the others near the cars. The blood on his hand is beginning to dry and he wipes it on his gear as he runs.

* * *

><p>The Soldier sits.<p>

The metal arm spasms slightly now and then, you wouldn't notice it except the electrical charge is making the fingers twitch ever so slightly.

The bird man (Sam, his name is Sam) sits on one side of him. The Captain, Stevie, is on the other side. He might be asleep. Listening to his breathing the Soldier, James Barnes of the 107th, thinks he might be.

He's restless, relentless.

Skin itches, a need to fight. To flee. Pointed pricks of pain.

Only it's not pain. It's background noise.

The screaming too (_"__Who the hell is Bucky?" "Your name is James Buchanan Barnes". James Barnes don't exist. -Steve!- He died in 1941. You're a weapon. a gift to mankind. "You're my friend." Steve? Steve… __)_, it's all just background noise. And somewhere behind that there's blackness. Still, he doesn't flee, doesn't fight. He sits and tries to think about squat. Not thinking was easier when there wasn't anything to think about; or any reason to want to think.

* * *

><p>They're in two cars, using one that the support squad brought. Sam, Steve and the Solider in one, a guy with a gun driving, and Clint and Natasha in the other. It's an peculiar kind of procession they make as they press through the morning, passing the border into Indiana State. You wouldn't know that the red Mazda, which is ostentatious as fuck and clearly belongs to Tony Stark (only it doesn't, Natasha won it off him last month), houses two of the most dangerous people you'll ever meet. Or that in the black Sudan three cars in front sits the most dangerous. Behind is a handful of select agents, just in case.<p>

They're headed toward a safe house Natasha knows - near enough Lawrence that civilisation isn't ever out of reach but far enough that if something were to go wrong, civilians won't be compromised.

Even though she drove all yesterday, Natasha stopped the car 40 minutes ago and told Clint to get out of the driving seat.

(_"W-what're you doing?"_

_"You, out. I'm driving, I'd rather not die before we get there please."_

_"I don't think we're going to—"_

_"No, but you're tapping again and I know you Clint. If you're tapping you're not concentrating."_)

The thing is, he's still tapping and it's not that Natasha's not getting irritated, it's actually exceedingly annoying, but tapping and Clint never go well together.

"Stop."

"Huh? Oh. Sorry." Clint looks down at his hand, like he's only just realising he has one. To his credit he does stop tapping. For all of two minutes.

"Clint…"

He blinks a few times, and focuses on his fingers, which stop tapping again.

"Where did you go, huh?"

"Sorry I just… Today's been kinda weird, you know?"

"Yeah. Only a couple'a hours now though."

"Huh, can't wait to get in'a bed again. Maybe have a sandwich or somethin' first though." Natasha smiles slightly, and if one of her hands reaches over to rest on his then he doesn't say anything.

The car hums to itself for a few minutes and Natasha switches into the outside lane, which is almost entirely empty.

"You know how we weren't sure who's looking for The Winter— for Bucky? I think, I might have an idea at least of one person. Or rather, peoples." Clint says, suddenly.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you remember the guys who took my ears?"

"Yes…"

"Well, the kid today, from the airplane —"

"—The security one?"

"Did you see his wrist?"

"Only quickly. Why? Was he..?"

"Yeah… I, um, he's not a problem anymore - although his friends might be… He, uh, told me a couple've interesting things…"

* * *

><p>Someone give this kid a pay rise and cut the damn check. Sam glances over at their driver when this particular thought passes through his consciousness. The kid, in question is the driver, who, at this point, hasn't raised an eyebrow (or a gun) at whose sat in his car. It's not possible that he hasn't heard the horrific stories about his passenger and Sam wonders what they were trained for, these kids back at S.H.I.E.L.D school. Whatever it is, he must be fearless - or really, really stupid.<p>

The Soldier has barely moved since they got in the car, a couple'a hours ago, though, and Sam is starting to relax a bit as the adrenaline seeps away, even if it does mean that it leaves space for the paralytic exhaustion to creep back, bit by bit. He'd risk sleeping for a bit, only Steve's already snoring quietly and, even though he isn't posing to much of a threat, the Soldier is still staring straight ahead. Instead Sam sits back and lets random thoughts swim around his head for a bit.

He's reminded of the morning, where, were he supposes the 'hunt' for Barnes had begun, in his mind at least. Contrary to Steve, who believes that it began back when S.H.I.E.L.D fell, Sam would say that it was the morning Black Widow had appeared, unannounced, in his kitchen (_"Jesus fuck Nat there's a door most people start with, y'know, knocking"_) that it actually begun.

**The Beginning. (Or at least The Beginning according to Sam Wilson, The Falcon):**

_"Jesus fuck Nat there's a door, most people start with, y'know, knocking" He's covered in sweat and really just wants to shower, eat and sleep a couple more hours before he has to pick Steve up from the airport._

_"Hey Sam, you don't mind do you? I need to lay low for a couple of days. I brought you a present." She gestures to the large crate that Sam's just tripped over on his way to the fridge._

_"I can see. Who's on your case this time? More importantly—" He says with a mouthful of bagel "—am I going to have to infiltrate anything again? Juice?"_

_" No thanks, I ate already." She sits as Sam continues preparing his breakfast._

_"So, what up?"_

_"Your /hideous/ light fitting." She bends to pull a folder out of her bag just as a spatular goes flying at her head. She catches it with one hand and throws it back before Sam registers she actually caught it. "No seriously, I can't believe you haven't replaced it yet."_

_"I wasn't the one who shot the old one with an arrow in the first place."_

_"Neither was I."_

_"It was definitely your idea though. 'Oh Clint let's see who can reck more of Falcon's possessions in one go while trying to send objects though the closed window.' - yeah sure, you're totally innocent in that scenario."_

_"What was that voice?! I don't sound like that… Anyway have a look at this, it's a basic summary of the who and the what parts at least." Sam tips the scrabbled eggs onto his plate, flicking through the fairly thick file._

_"So this terrorist gang, the what - Maggia? - these guys, they're trying to kill you?"_

_"If by kill you mean maim, torture, and extract information from, then yeah sure. Not all of them though, see, these ones are split up into houses."_

_"And the assets are the ones blocking my fridge then?"_

_"I'm taking them to a storage unit not far from here. They might be useful one day."_

_"Wait - You don't actually want them?" Sam turns from the sink, spinning almost comically._

_"Not really."_

_"Nope, m'not following…walk me through that again; You stole a whole bunch of shit which got an unknown terrorist organisation chasing you're ass for /no reason at all/? Is this some kind of scary assassin mid-life crisis is it because—"_

_"Haha very funny" Natasha deadpans. "Don't worry we've got a few more years before that sets in, I assure you. I needed in to the facility, and while I was there I found them. You didn't run with Steve this morning?" It's not really a question, more of a statement._

_"I - he's not in town right now. I though you knew that?"_

_"Yeah but he was coming back on tuesday, I skyped him monday night once I got on the ground."_

_"He rang tuesday morning, said he was staying a few more days; I'm picking him up this afternoon…"_

_"Huh, that's odd. He's a shit lier, I'd've known if he was. Wonder what changed his mind?"_

_"Damnit Steve, you'd better got a good reason this time… So these crazy folks chasing your ass, you got a plan?"_

_"Lay low a couple of days then I'll go back, take them down from the top - easy, quick, minimal fall out. I don't think I was the only one who broke into the storage facility where the assets were though. There was damage to the security panel, not extensive but definitely sophisticated. Whoever did it's been trained properly at some point. There was, uh, bits missing, at a guess, stuff that could be used to repair some kind of metal prosthesis."_

_"You don't mean - he's been there?"_

_"Maybe. Maybe we'll know, depending on what Steve's found - wherever he's gotten to. Don't tell him anything just yet though?"_

_"Sure. I'm working this afternoon but I was gonna drop Steve 'round the tower when he gets in."_

_"I guess I'll see him there later then."_

Nat didn't inform anyone about anything that afternoon. As it turned out that was the afternoon Tony's once pet project now mass murdering mechanical monstrosity, Ultron, decided to drop in.

* * *

><p>"—according to these he was 19. 19. He was still a kid Nat. How sick are these guys?"<p>

"Some of us started that young."

"But… look where we are now, I mean, we're doing the right thing now, aren't we? But — can you imagine what kinda life that kid'a got —"

"Don't. Even if he didn't know what was signing up for, that's no-one's fault but theirs. So, right now, the priority is making sure no more of them get that close to us again. Right now, our job is to stop them getting to James. And after this is all over - maybe I'll come with you to take them apart properly."

"So. What're we going to tell Cap?"

* * *

><p><strong>So when I said next weekend or there about, I was aiming for sooner than 3 weekends later but hey, UCAS, uni visits, coursework and music competitions have pretty much filled my time. Also this chapter was a pain to write and is pretty long. It was going to be longer but I cut it off so I could get at least something uploaded. I hope you enjoy it though.<strong>

**- Thank you to Charliee who had a look over the previous stuff and pointed out the flaws in my german grammar btw ;p x**


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